Page 92 of Rescuing Erin

“Something smell funny to you?” Kyle Smith asked before I could comment.

“This ain’t no normal UN annex, and before you ask, yes, I’ve been in plenty,” Max Brown added.

A woman roughly my age walked into the lobby. Her high heels clicking on the tile floor announced her approach long before we saw her.

“Declan Crenshaw?” she asked.

“Yes.” I stepped forward.

“Tatiana Jones,” she introduced herself. “Sorry.” She motioned around the room. “Budget cuts.”

My bullshit meter was pegged into the red, but I didn’t bother to call her out. Tatiana Jones was not my concern nor was her cover. We followed her into a small room that shrank considerably when five very large men entered.

“I’ve been briefed on the Militrix’s transoceanic cabling contract. My divers inspected the area around the King Fahd Causeway and found no cabling.” Tatiana sat at the head of the table, signaling for the rest of us to as well.

“Your divers?” Brooks cut in.

“Yes. Mine. The area is clear.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to take a look myself.”

I hadn’t worked with the team long, but Zane had promised they were solid, all coming from the same BUD/s class and having been on the same SEAL platoon together during their years in service, Brooks going off reservation and challenging Tatiana was not going according to plan. First, we didn’t need a pissing contest, and, second, we didn’t ask permission to carry out an objective. We simply accomplished our task, with none the wiser.

“There’s no need. I have the utmost trust in—”

“Right. You may, but I don’t. And, all due respect, I trust, but verify.”

Tatiana leaned back and eyed Brooks.

“I know all about your verification process, Mr. Miller. I’m also well acquainted with men like you.”

“Oh, yeah? And what kind of man am I, doll?”

“An overachiever. Demolitions expert. Divemaster. Low and high-altitude jumpmaster. Rappel Master. Fast Rope Master.”

“Glad to see you’ve done your homework. Unfortunately, the work-up we received on you was only a paragraph. There was nothing listing your accomplishments.”

“My accomplishments aren’t important. The only thing that’s imperative is you don’t fuck up my op.”

There were so many red flags waving, I was beginning to wonder what kind of shitstorm we’d walked into. This was supposed to be an easy in and out. Recon only.

“Well, Miss Jones. It is Miss, correct? We wouldn’t want to get in your way. I’ll take a quick look around this afternoon, and, hopefully, in a few days, we’ll be on our way.”

“It’s actually none-of-your-business,” Tatiana sparred. “I’ll take you out there myself. Oh-five-hundred.”

“You’ll take me out?”

“Good to know all your combat tours haven’t diminished your hearing.”

It was by the grace of all things holy I was able to hold back my laughter. I didn’t know what kind of shit Tatiana Jones was running, and I didn’t want to know, but I liked her, she had spunk.

“What do you know about diving?”

“You’re not the only one with special quals, friend. If we’re done, I have shit to do. I was promised you guys wouldn’t be an issue.”

“There will be no issues from us,” I confirmed. “Recon and out.”

“Good. I have something scheduled in less than a week. I’d prefer you were gone by then.”